I Mustn't Show Weakness
by DreamDeferred
Summary: It was all Potter's fault. It had always been Potter's fault. But when Draco tried to get revenge through a certain 'mudblood', he had no idea what it would cost him.
1. Ponderings

Hey everyone, this is my first try at writing these things. Please let me know if you like it.

Disclaimer: Apparently everyone has to have this, even though this is a _fanfiction _website, hence no one owns anything by default. But I give all credit for the invention of these characters and this alternate world to the genius of JK Rowling.

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**_I Mustn't Show Weakness  
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Chapter 1 – Ponderings

Outside the window of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, the rain was falling torrentially. It had rained all day like this...it seemed the skies were trying to empty themselves once and for all on the world. The dreary sky exactly reflected the mood of the tall, skinny, tousled-haired young man with glasses who sat staring disconsolately out of the window in his bedroom. Absent-mindedly, with one hand, he rubbed his forehead over the spot where a lightning-bolt shaped scar was burnt into his skin. His shockingly green eyes, that held far too much care in them for one so young, closed slowly in a weariness that did not come from lack of sleep.

Lying on a small table next to him were several pictures, all featuring a dark haired man with a mischievous, knowing smile, who often waved and laughed at the unseen picture-taker. In a couple of the pictures he was obviously much older, and his face looked gaunt and hollow. But still he smiled and waved.

Harry opened his eyes and looked down at all he had left of Sirius. All the miniature versions of his godfather smiled back at him without a care in the world.

"_I wish I could talk to him, just once. That would be enough," _he thought miserably.

He wanted to tell Sirius everything that had happened, to talk to him about all the worries and fears that plagued him constantly. He needed his godfather's advice more than ever now.

He could feel Sirius' presence all through the house; everywhere he went, he saw a chair Sirius had sat in, a mirror he had cleaned, a closet full of his clothes. It was enough to drive him insane. He often found himself talking to Sirius as though the blank walls would answer him back. Being here was a constant reminder of the happiness he would never get to keep.

Last summer, when Harry had spent two weeks here before school started, the pain had been unbearable. He had locked himself in the bedroom and refused to speak to anyone. Though he had been grateful to get away from the Dursleys, it had been a bad idea to bring him to his godfather's house when the gaping loss inside him was still so new. Ron, Hermione, and everyone else in the house seemed to respect this and gave him his privacy, checking up on him every now and then to make sure he was ok.

Gradually through the school year, in the company of his friends, the colossal empty hole inside had started to repair itself. Being back here, however, opened it anew.

There was no getting away from it, no distractions here. At times he became so angry at the house, at the world, that it was all he could do to keep himself from destroying everything around him...at other times, like now, he became so depressed that he could barely move.

It wasn't just Sirius that was upsetting him. Over and over again, both waking and in dreams, he revisited the battle of just two months before.

The dank smell of the dungeons as he ran down the steps with Ron, searching desperately for Hermione...the horror of seeing all the Death Eaters closing in around her...Voldemort's hungry, snakelike face with the glowing scarlet eyes leering at him..._no, no, not again_, he refused to relive it again. The look on Malfoy's face..._no_! But the memories came back, overpowering him...

_Harry and Ron skidded to a halt at the bottom of the stairs to the dungeons of the school. There, bound and lying on the floor, they could make out Hermione in the dim light along with several other students from muggle families. There were at least fifteen Death Eaters circling around them, their wands held high and ready to strike. They all seemed to be looking at someone in the corner of the room, waiting for a signal._

_Harry's scar erupted in white-hot pain, and he knew then exactly who the hooded figures were looking at. This was it, this was the fight... he had to kill Voldemort now and fulfill the prophecy. His heart was pounding at a million miles an hour as he said to Ron quietly,_

"_You can't meddle in this - I have to do this alone."_

"_Harry what in bloody hell are you talking about? We have to save Hermione!!" Ron hissed._

"_No, this is between me and Voldemort...Ron, listen to me. Get Dumbledore, NOW. I have to fight Voldemort alone, I have to kill him...Dumbledore will take care of the Death Eaters. Go now before it's too late," Harry whispered urgently._

_Ron was looking at him, fear in his eyes. "I don't understand...why do you have to kill him, you can't –"_

"_Ron PLEASE just go, I promise you that if I survive this I will explain everything. GO!"_

_Ron took one last, terrified look at him before sprinting back up the stairs towards the Headmaster's office..._

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* * *

_Harry blinked and shook himself, trying to stop the memories. He didn't want to remember. But they relentlessly forced themselves back into his mind's eye.....

* * *

_The jet of green light passed over him, ricocheting off the wall and heading towards the huddle of hooded Death Eaters...it struck one of them, and without a sound they fell with a sickening thud. There was complete, stunned silence for a second, then –_

"_LUCIUS!" one of the hooded figures dropped to their knees and began shaking his still, prostrate form in an attempt to wake him._

"_Leave him!" Voldemort shouted, and then turning to Harry he hissed, "This is the last time, Potter."_

_And in a burst of light, Voldemort and all of the Death Eaters were gone. _

_Harry lay on the ground where he had fallen, staring in shock at the crumpled body of Lucius Malfoy lying on the floor. _

Harry sighed, returning to the present once again. He knew this last year at Hogwarts, if Draco Malfoy returned, would be hell. Pure hell. He was almost sure that the blond-haired Slytherin blamed him for his father's death, though Dumbledore must have told him otherwise.

_What if he was plotting revenge at this very moment?_

_No, _he shook his head. He couldn't think about that or he would go mad. He would take it as it came.

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At the same time, far away from Harry Potter, another young man was staring out at the rain as it fell. He ran a hand through his perfect, slicked back, white-blond hair. His pale, handsome face was marred only by the deep dark circles that cut into the skin under his slate-colored eyes. At the moment, those brooding eyes were about as dark as the sky overhead.

His fists clenched in anger. This thing, this...disaster, wasn't supposed to have happened. It was all _Potter's_ fault... it had always been Potter's fault. He'd never hated anyone more than he hated that boy at this moment.

Not that he missed his father particularly. The man had been a force of power and fear in Draco's life from his earliest memories. As a child, he had lived in constant fear of invoking the terrible anger he knew Lucius was quick to.

But while he had respected and feared his father, he had no intention of becoming him. He was a Malfoy. He served no one.

However, he still had one more year to get through at that dilapidated institution people called a school. He scowled, looking down at the open letter on the table next to him.

_Dear Mr. Malfoy –_

_I would like to extend my congratulations to you on your appointment of Head Boy this year. Enclosed you will find your badge. In light of recent events, there were many who doubted your eligibility for this position, but I personally have faith that you are a separate being from your father, and that you will not abuse the privileges you are offered. Please accept also, my sympathies for your father's death. On September 1st, please report to the Head's compartment on the Hogwarts Express, where your duties and responsibilities will be explained to you. You will be sharing dormitory facilities with this year's Head Girl at school. Congratulations again and have a pleasant remainder of the summer._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Headmaster Albus Dumbledore_

He had to admit, he'd been surprised when he'd gotten the letter. Since there was now no denying that his father had been a Death Eater, he'd wondered if he was even going to be invited back to the school. The old fool was more trusting than he had previously thought.

Being Head Boy suited him fine, however, as he would have his own room with no one to bother him but the Head Girl. He wondered who it would be.

_I hope she's not a prude, whoever she is._ It would be quite convenient to have someone he could shag whenever he felt like it, without getting in trouble for having a girl in the boy's dormitories. The corner of his mouth twisted upward into a smirk for a half second, before he frowned again.

There was still the question of Potter. He had to pay for what he had done. But how? He'd have to consider the matter.

* * *

Harry was interrupted from his dark thoughts by the sound of quiet footsteps coming up the stairs, and then Hermione tentatively opening the door and entering the room. 

"Harry, are you feeling ok? You look pale..." she was looking at him with concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine...just erm...thinking...anyway, what're you doing up here?"

"I was just coming to check on you..." she sat down on the edge of the bed, looking thoughtful. Harry turned back to the window.

The silence that ensued was a comfortable one. The two were such good friends that they didn't always need to say anything; just enjoyed each other's company. However, after a couple of minutes, Harry asked quietly, "Do you think Malfoy will come back this year? After what...happened?"

Hermione was silent for a moment. "I'm not sure. I mean...can he come back? Since it's been proven now that his father is..._was_ a Death Eater?"

"I don't know. I suppose Dumbledore is the one who decides things like that," Harry rubbed his scar again absent-mindedly.

Hermione sighed. "I hope he gets expelled, honestly. He deserves it." Harry nodded his agreement.

There was silence again for a few minutes, interrupted only by some sort of banging downstairs that Harry assumed was Ron looking for food in the kitchen.

Hermione eyed the pictures of Sirius sitting on the table, then cleared her throat a bit nervously. "I..._we_ do understand what you're going through, you know, you don't have to avoid us –"

Harry sighed. "I'm not avoiding you."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Right, so that's why you've been holed up in here for days, Harry...because you're not avoiding us."

"Do you think it's easy for me to be back here again?" he snapped.

"No, of course not," she said, her tone instantly becoming soothing. She and Ron had both learned what caused Harry's temper fits, and how to avoid them. "We're just lonely without you, and we were wondering if you'd come downstairs for lunch..."

"Lunch? It's..." Harry, temporarily distracted from his anger, looked down at his watch. "Four o'clock! Do you mean to tell me you haven't had lunch yet in all this time, with Ron around?"

Hermione smirked. "This afternoon, our dear Ronald accidentally let Pig out of his cage. He ransacked the entire kitchen in his effort to look for a letter to deliver to someone, and it has taken this long for Ron to clean it up again. Mrs. Weasely wouldn't let him have his lunch until he finished."

Harry grinned. "Bet he was really over the moon about that one..."

They heard a shout from downstairs. "Oy! Harry! Hermione! What's taking so long? I'm so hungry I could eat my bloody hand off!" Ron bellowed, before stomping back to the kitchen.

Harry and Hermione exchanged amused, knowing glances, before proceeding downstairs to join him.


	2. The View

Thank you to the reviewers!

Disclaimer: Duh, I don't own this. None of it, zip, zilch and zero.

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Chapter 2 – "The View"

_"GET OFF ME!! Let me go!" she screamed desperately._

_"SILENCE, you piece of mudblood filth!"_

_She groped for her wand as she was dragged down the stairs._

_"STUP—" But before she could finish the spell, pain exploded at the back of her head and darkness overcame her..._

_She was trying to wake up, she had to wake up...someone was in danger...but who? Her face felt cold; her whole body did. She had to wake up; someone was going to die soon, she knew it...she just couldn't remember who it was she had to save. Finally she managed to force her eyes open._

_She was lying on a cold stone floor. She started to get up, but found she couldn't move. Her mind was racing. Whoever it was that needed her help, needed it badly, and she couldn't get to them..._

_Her thoughts were interrupted when her ribs exploded in pain as a boot savagely kicked her in the side. She cried out in surprise. Then it came again, and again...blinding, sharp pain...she could feel her ribs cracking and splintering...she screamed in agony..._

_From far away, she heard laughter...menacing, evil laughter. And then a cold voice..._

_"Crucio."_

* * *

Hermione woke with a start. Her body was drenched in sweat and she was shaking violently. _Not that nightmare again..._

She started to sit up, but the sharp pain in her ribs reminded her that it had not just been a particularly bad nightmare. It was bad enough that she had lived through it, but now she visited it in dreams too. She wondered if it would ever stop haunting her. What if Harry hadn't come to save her? She tried not to dwell on it, but the fear always came back to her in the vulnerability of sleep.

She got up and went into the bathroom, the fear and pain of the dream slowly subsiding but still clear in her mind. She splashed cold water on her face, then dried it with a towel, staring at her reflection in the mirror.

The seventeen year old girl who looked back at her was hardly recognizable, compared to the Hermione Granger who was beginning her sixth year at Hogwarts just one year ago. Last year, though by no means ignorant, she had been so...naïve. Innocent. Happy.

After the attack, she'd had a nervous breakdown of sorts. She couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, and the nightmares had haunted her constantly when she did sleep. Harry and Ron had tried to help her, and Madame Pomfrey gave her deep sleep droughts to end the nightmares...but the damage would never fully repair itself.

Physically, there was so much damage to her ribs that even Madame Pomfrey could not completely fix them, though she said they would heal themselves over time.

Mentally, Hermione knew that she would never be the same again. But she put on a brave front and pretended she had moved on, so as not to worry Harry and Ron. Harry, at least, had far too much to worry about already without her complicating things. _Ron_...the corner of her mouth curved upward in a slight smile. Well, Ron worried about her enough already.

Harry had told them about the prophecy while sitting on Hermione's bed at the Hospital Wing. She had to admit that the ultimatum didn't come as much of a shock to her, as it seemed that Harry and Voldemort's connection had always been out of the ordinary...

But she was frightened for Harry all the same. How in the world was he going to defeat Voldemort? And when would it happen? She hoped he wouldn't have to face it until after they were out of Hogwarts, after he had been trained as an Auror, so he had the best chance possible...but a small part of her knew Voldemort wasn't going to wait that long to try and get rid of Harry once again.

He was going to strike soon, before Harry was fully trained to fight. Her jaw set in determination.

_When he comes for Harry, Ron and I will be right there beside him._

She shuddered to think of that pallid, reptilian face. She had never seen anything more terrifying in her life.

At least they were going back to school tomorrow, so her mind would have something else to focus on. Wait...school. Seventh year. She had barely given it a thought after the attack...but now she remembered. Who would be Head Boy and Girl?

She had always hoped to become Head Girl; part of her had always assumed she would be, though she would never say this out loud. But tomorrow they were going back to school, and she had received no notification of any kind suggesting that she had been appointed to the position.

Was it possible that she hadn't gotten it? Wouldn't they have let her know by now if she had? And if she hadn't been chosen, what was the reason?

She sighed. It really wasn't important now, she supposed. Who really cared if she was Head Girl or not, right? With her luck, someone like Malfoy would be Head Boy anyway. She almost snorted at the idea, but thought better of it before her ribs got the chance to complain.

Taking one last look at herself in the mirror, she shook her head and walked back to endure another sleepless night.

* * *

The next morning dawned cold and grey. It was with somewhat gloomy but mostly apprehensive hearts that Harry, Hermione and Ron packed up their trunks and dragged them downstairs along with Ginny, then went to the kitchen where Mrs. Weasley was bustling around making breakfast.

"Ron, dear, don't forget your sweater...Ginny, you left your wand down here last night...there you go dear...Harry, Hermione, do you have everything you need?"

"Yes, thanks Mrs. Weasley," Hermione murmured distractedly. Harry grunted.

"Good, good...well, have some breakfast, Remus will be here with your portkey shortly...I daresay we don't want you all to be out in the open...not that that helped us last year...You-Know-Who at Hogwarts, really..." Mrs. Weasley broke off, looking worried, and said nothing more.

Hermione sat down between Harry and Ron at the table. Ron gave her a small, crooked smile and squeezed her hand lightly under the table. She gave him a small smile back before turning to her food.

Breakfast was a quiet affair, with everyone lost in their own thoughts.

* * *

As they were cleaning up, Lupin appeared in the doorway holding what appeared to be a pirate's hat.

"Hello everyone...here's the portkey...it will take you straight to the train at 10:30. Dumbledore has strange taste in objects...they get stranger all the time..." he trailed off, not seeming to be paying attention to what he was saying anymore.

Having nothing else to do, they sat around in the kitchen making small talk until 10:30, when they had to say their goodbyes.

* * *

Mrs. Weasely scurried around to all the teenagers, enveloping each in turn in a smothering, bone-crushing hug that somehow made all of them feel slightly better despite their loud vocal protests. Harry could have sworn that she held onto him for longer than the others, and as she stepped back he did not miss the concern in her eyes.

"Now, do be careful, all of you. I know I don't have to remind you, but please dears, watch out for yourselves..." she looked at Harry meaningfully.

"Er...ok..." Harry muttered. The others murmured similar assents.

Lupin stepped forward, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder and looking round at all their faces. "Mrs. Weasley is right, you must be careful. No matter what happens, be loyal to each other and watch out for each other. Make sure you always know where the others are. Have a good year and try to concentrate on your schoolwork; I know it's hard but this year is very important for your future careers."

They all jumped as another voice barked from the doorway. "And remember, CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

Moody limped into the room, his disfigured face looking grim. "Especially you, Harry...watch yourself." Both his magical and normal eye were fixed on Harry as if analyzing just how well Harry would take his advice.

Harry sighed. Didn't they know he was tired of hearing this? However, he merely said, "Ok, I will."

They gathered themselves around the hat, each with one hand on it and the other holding their trunk. The last thing Harry saw before he felt the familiar jerk was Mrs. Weasley's worried, anxious face watching him with teary eyes.

* * *

The four teenagers landed with a jolt in one of the compartments on the Hogwarts Express. Mass chaos quickly ensued as it turned out they had landed in an already full compartment, and they fell in an unceremonious heap on top of each other.

"OW! Geroff me you stupid prat! Your arse is in my face!" A muffled voice from under Ron yelled.

"Someone's sitting on my foot!"

"Argh...your trunk is crushing me!"

Laughing and apologizing to Neville, Dean, Seamus, Parvati and Lavender, whose compartment they had invaded, the four who had just arrived pulled themselves up rather ungracefully and managed to get off of the other students. Seamus scowled at Ron, rubbing his cheek where Ron's arse had been.

"Please do me a favor and don't ever let me see that view of you again, Ron," he said. "I might just be scarred for life."

Ron's ears turned pink as everyone else began laughing uproariously.

"Nah, that view's reserved for Hermione, right?" Parvati winked. Both Hermione and Ron turned bright red while everyone else laughed harder.

"Erm...I...let's go find a compartment, shall we?" Hermione suggested quickly. Ron nodded vehemently and Harry shrugged and smiled mischievously before following them out. Ginny followed behind them, still chuckling, before going into a compartment with some other 6th years.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione managed to find an empty compartment near the end of the train. They threw their trunks in and flopped down on the seats. After a few minutes of silence as they watched the countryside begin rolling by, Ron scooted over to Hermione and put his arm around her, kissing her cheek softly. She smiled at him before slowly leaning in and brushing her lips against his. She was watching his eyes soften when Harry cleared his throat.

"Um, guys? Can you wait for the snog-fest until you are...alone...somewhere where I don't have to watch? It's sickening watching you."

"Then don't watch." Ron grinned mischievously. Harry rolled his eyes. Hermione laughed at the two of them before gently disentangling herself from Ron's arms, ignoring his protests.

"Oh come on 'Mione!"

"I'm just going to the loo, Ron...I'm sure you can survive for five minutes without me," she smiled.

Ron scowled, crossing his arms with a huff. "Don't be too sure."

Hermione chuckled, walking out into the corridor and sliding the compartment door shut behind her. She continued down the deserted corridor toward the back of the train. She was about to pass the last compartment door before the bathroom when she heard a muffled, deep, familiar drawl coming from it and stopped short. She strained her ears to hear what they were saying.

"...don't care what Lucius did, I'm not going down that road, Zabini. I have no loyalties left there."

Another voice, presumably Zabini, spoke. "Do you know who did it?"

A snort. "Of course I do. It was _him_."

"Who? Potter?"

Another snort, this louder than the first. "Do you think Potter could kill anyone, even if he tried? Of course not. No, it wasn't Potter...but it was Potter's fault. He's going to pay dearly for it."

There was silence for a moment. Then Zabini's voice again. "What were the members doing at school anyway?"

Malfoy laughed silkily, evilly. "Trying to kill some pitiful mudbloods. Personally, I wish they would've taken out Granger while they had the chance...she's a damned annoying bitch and it would've ripped dear _Potter_ to shreds."

The pure menace and hate in Malfoy's voice, not to mention his words, made Hermione gasp in shock before she could stop herself. Her eyes widened in realization of what she'd just done and she clapped a hand over her mouth, but judging by the sudden silence in the compartment, she had definitely been heard.

She searched frantically for a hiding place as the sound of quick, heavy footsteps drew close to the doorway.


	3. The Encounter

Disclaimer: I...don't...own...anything.

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Chapter 3 – The Encounter

**Previously**_: The pure menace and hate in Malfoy's voice, not to mention his words, made Hermione gasp in shock before she could stop herself. Her eyes widened in realization of what she'd just done and she clapped a hand over her mouth, but judging by the sudden silence in the compartment, she had definitely been heard._

_She searched frantically for a hiding place as the sound of quick, heavy footsteps drew close to the doorway._

* * *

Hermione managed to jump into the adjoining compartment and hide behind the half-open door just as Malfoy quickly slid his door open, not 2 feet away from where she stood. Her heart was pounding in her ears and she held her breath as she heard him shuffling around, looking for the uninvited listener. She felt like a small, terrified mouse being prowled by a large, deadly snake as she heard Draco stealthily moving around, listening for any clues that might give away his prey.

After what seemed like an eternity, she heard him move past her compartment and on down the corridor in the direction of the bathroom. She breathed a small sigh of relief. As quietly and swiftly as possible, she poked her head out, saw that his back was turned, and snuck out into the corridor, trying to walk as normally as possible away from him so as not to appear suspicious.

She had only gotten a few feet away, however, before she was grabbed roughly from behind by arms of steel and shoved against the wall. She looked up in shock into the face of Draco Malfoy, only inches away from hers. The look on his face was deadly.

"_Granger_," he hissed venomously.

She hoped she was covering her fear with anger as she spat back, "What do you want, _Malfoy?"_

His hands gripped her shoulders painfully as he slammed her against the wall again. "_What did you hear?"_

Hermione glared daggers at him for a moment and tried fruitlessly to pry his hands off her shoulders. "Get off me."

He leaned closer and his voice was dangerously calm. "When I ask a question, I expect to get an answer, Mudblood. I will not ask again."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Malfoy," she said coldly, hoping her eyes weren't betraying her.

His grip on her shoulders became even more painful as he pulled back for a second before slamming her into the wall once again, harder than before. Tears stung her eyes and she gasped as her already injured ribs were jarred painfully. She gripped her ribcage with her arms, trying to stop the pain from overtaking her.

"I didn't hear anything!" She gasped out. She looked up into his eyes to see that he was staring down at her arms around her middle, an unreadable expression on his face. His hold on her shoulders loosened considerably, and suddenly he looked...almost regretful of what he'd done.

But as quickly as it had come, it was gone. His eyes turned ice cold again as he looked back to her face.

"You better not have heard anything. I swear, Granger, if any of this gets out, I'll make you wish you were never born. Though, yours doesn't count as a significant life anyway, does it little Mudblood?"

"Fuck off, Malfoy," she gritted through her teeth.

He sneered at her before leaning close to her ear and whispering, "Pity _he_ didn't get rid of you while he had the chance. I don't know anyone besides Potty and Weasel who would miss you."

At this, she pushed at his chest violently and tried to shove him away. She got one arm free and her fist was halfway to his face before he caught it deftly in his own hand.

"Such anger, little Mudblood," he whispered silkily. "Tell me, do you really think you could hurt me if you tried?"

"Malfoy," she snarled, "I am _this close _to hexing you into oblivion. If you know what's good for you, let me go right now."

He shook his head, smirking amusedly as he released her hand. "You don't have any idea who you're dealing with, do you? Well, run along little Mudblood, and tell dear _Potter _that if _he _knows what's good for _him, _he'll watch his back, and," his eyes looked her up and down disconcertingly, "his friends."

"You sick son of a bitch," she hissed. "You are in no position to do anything to us."

"Oh, that's where you're wrong, Granger. Your precious old fool of a headmaster begs to differ."

He smirked smugly as he reached in his pocket and pulled out a shiny badge with the words "Head Boy" engraved under the Slytherin emblem.

Hermione gaped at it in shock for several moments, lost for words. The very idea she had thought ridiculous last night, was a reality! She sputtered, "But...but...you...you _can't..._I..."

"Tsk tsk Granger, didn't your parentsever teach you to speak properly? Oh wait, then again, those muggles _are_ quite uncivilized...perhaps they haven't mastered the use of the English language yet," he said, shrugging his shoulders and sounding falsely sympathetic.

Hermione snapped abruptly out of her dumbfounded daze at these words. Her cheeks flushed in anger and her brown eyes snapped as she snarled, "They damn well have, you arrogant, nasty, pasty-faced _ferret! _Remember that you can't buy your way out of trouble anymore Malfoy, not with your daddy gone." And with that, she turned on her heel and stalked back to her compartment, slamming the door behind her.

* * *

Draco stood stunned, rooted to the spot for several seconds as he watched her bouncing brown and caramel streaked curls moving down the corridor until they disappeared into a compartment, followed by a loud bang as she slammed the door.

That stupid bitch. Who did she think she was, talking to _him_ that way?

He stalked back to his compartment in a filthy rage, unconsciously imitating her behavior exactly as he slammed the door behind him as well.

* * *

Harry and Ron jumped about a foot in the air as Hermione burst into the compartment, slamming the door as hard as she could in her rage. Then she winced, and moved one hand up to hold her ribs tightly, willing the pain to go away as she bent over.

"Hermione?! What's wrong?"

"What happened?!"

The boys moved quickly over to her and helped her sit down slowly. Her breathing was fast and shallow as she held onto them for support.

"'Mione, what happened to you?" Ron reached a hand up to cup her cheek and tried to look into her eyes, but she wouldn't look at him or Harry. He lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his concerned gaze.

She gazed back at him for a moment, trying to decide whether to tell him the truth or not. After quick consideration, she decided that she didn't want WWIII on her hands just now.

"Oh, I um...I tripped and hit my ribs just wrong when I fell...it's nothing really, Ron, you don't have to be so worried, I mean it's not like anything terribly bad happened..." she realized she was beginning to ramble and quickly clamped her mouth shut.

Harry was looking at her skeptically. "Then why did we hear you yelling at someone out there?" Ron's eyes narrowed as Harry said this, and he nodded emphatically.

"Yeah, what Harry said."

Hermione sighed. She'd have to at least mention Malfoy now. She tried to steel herself for the explosion she knew would come as she looked at the ground, muttering, "Well, Iwasyellingatmalfoy."

"What?"

She sighed again. "I...was...yelling...at...Malfoy."

"MALFOY?! HE'S HERE???" Ron demanded furiously, eyes blazing. Harry said nothing, but there was something close to disbelief, quickly becoming dread in his eyes.

Ron jumped up and began pacing the small compartment. "I don't believe this! Bloody hell, I thought we'd gotten rid of him for good when his bloody _Death Eater_ father stuffed it in our own school, trying to kill..." he broke off abruptly, looking anxiously back over at Hermione. She stared at the floor, jaw quivering slightly.

He hurried over to her, sitting beside her and laying an arm across her shoulders. He didn't notice her slight wince as he said, "I'm sorry 'Mione, I just..."

"It's ok," she said quietly.

It was quiet for a minute or so as Hermione continued to stare at the floor, Ron looked increasingly more confused and angry, and Harry shifted around uncomfortably in his seat. Finally Ron could stand it no longer.

"But Hermione, why were you even _talking _to Malfoy in the first place?"

Hermione's eyes went wide and she tried to think quickly. She couldn't tell them about Malfoy's threat...it would only make Ron furious and Harry even more troubled. She couldn't tell them she had been eavesdropping on his conversation, or that he had probably caused extensive bruising on her shoulders, as she had felt them when Ron had put his arm around her. She went with the first excuse that came to mind.

"He was standing...out in the corridor...when I tripped...and, erm...he started making fun of me." She hoped they were too concerned to recognize the pathetic lie.

Apparently they were. Ron looked furious. "Why that slimy-faced, greasy-haired, lowdown, good for nothing bas–"

"I handled it," she interrupted quickly. "And you have to leave him alone, Ron. He's...he's Head Boy."

"HE'S WHAT?!" This time there were _two_ shocked, angry boys yelling.

Hermione sighed once again. "He's Head Boy. I don't know how it happened, or what Dumbledore was thinking...but Malfoy showed me the badge. It's true."

"How could this happen?" Harry groaned. "This will be worse than 5th year when he was on that stupid Inquisitorial Squad!"

Ron nodded in agreement. "We're doomed."


End file.
